


We Learn To Say Goodbye

by tiatodd



Category: Avengers
Genre: Angst, Dancing, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also cheesy, bit of flashbacks, i think it qualifies as fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/tiatodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't do parties, and he's pretty sure Tony knows this. Nevertheless, he must adhere to social norms and mingle. Everything turns for the weird when he sees the girl he left behind so many years ago. He still never got that first dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic, probably by about a year. I wrote it almost directly after The Avengers. This is also my first post on Ao3 so I'm a little bit nervous. Hope you like, even though it's cheesy as Cheetos!

The stars were obscured from light pollution and the air was crisp and cool. Even when Steve couldn't hear the music, he could feel the bass pulsating through the entire building.

He clamped a pillow down over his ears, but that did little. He knew this party was in his honor, at least a sixth of it, but he wanted no part. It wasn't like he could go home, people would follow him. The price of your face being a familiar feature in news since the 1940s.

So now he was, essentially, trapped, in the quietest room he could find in Stark Tower. The door clicking open startled him.

"I'm a little offended," Tony said. "This is for you, too, you know."

"It really doesn't feel that way."

Tony clicked on the light and folded his arms. "Look. I know this isn't your preferred type of soirée, but it's going to look just a bit funny if every Avenger is seen at Tony Stark's party except for his best--his own father's best friend."

Steve stared up at Tony, looking about to ask why he should care.

"One hour. Please?" Tony bargained, expression unchanged.

"Tony, I've always been awkward at parties..."

"For me? And the others, if you like, but really only my feelings count here."

Steve sighed, not moving from the sofa.

"My house, I get to be the diva. Go eat, drink and be merry and make out with your various fangirls."

That one almost made Steve smile, and he followed Tony out the door. Almost immediately he wished he hadn't, suddenly thrust into a dark hall lit occasionally by the flashing lights reflecting off the floor in another room, and flooded with girls in sequined dresses "dancing" with their statues of dates. This wasn't exactly one of Tony's classiest parties.

"So when did this fine establishment become a club?" Steve asked, barely able to hear himself over the music. It took him a moment to realize Tony had disappeared.

It took him about three minutes to realize none of the Avengers were inside, so he went for the balcony. The music pulsed softer out here, and Steve was pleased to find actual women, dressed in slightly-less-revealing clothing and conversing with smartly dressed men. "Well that makes more sense."

He kind of stood there, biting his lip and growing increasingly awkward, until a voice from behind him chirped, "Oh my god it's Captain America!" A few from the balcony looked in his direction and he turned around to see a blonde girl who looked too young to be there.

Steve smiled, about to offer his hand with a "Pleasure to meet you," but was cut off by "Can I have a hug?"

Steve winced, the request sounding a bit more like a demand, but obliged. She wouldn't let him get a word in before she pulled out an iPhone from the top of her dress and took a picture. "My name's Madison. I'm like such a huge fan...you're personally my favorite of all the Avengers. My grandpa is a huge fan, too! He's told me stories about back during the War..."

Suddenly the repetitive music sounded a lot more appealing to Steve as she rambled on and he idly greeted a few of the others out on the balcony.

"Mhm. Oh, thank you. Oh, really, just doing what's right," he mumbled in response to their adoration.

That's when he saw her. On the other side of the balcony, dark brown curls disturbed by a subtle breeze to show just a flash of her white smile. Steve's heart skipped. "Peggy," he breathed, the name laden with the taste of nostalgia. He had to get to her.

Without so much as a goodbye he left his circle of admirers, brushing past a couple slowdancing and was three feet away when he was accosted by Thor. He looked up, panicked, into the Asgardian's face. "Look, big guy, can you make it quick? I need--"

"My dear friend, are you feeling in good health this evening?"

Steve let out a short, exasperated sigh. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm a supersoldier, remember? I can't really get sick."

Thor smiled and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "It is good to hear, my friend. Are you enjoying the night?"

Steve nodded shortly, peeking around Thor for a glimpse of the girl. "I'm...yes. Please excuse me." He stepped around Thor, brisk-walking to the other side of the balcony, but she was gone.

He blinked, as though she would be there when he opened his eyes, and only briefly did he let himself wonder if he had imagined her. Glancing around, he took in the crowd, spotting Thor again and Clint. He headed toward Clint, who, if not as uncomfortable as Steve, was at least a familiar face.

He barely took a step before he saw her again, inside, trough the glass. Quite forgetting himself, he bolted inside, perhaps knocking a few guests to the side in the wake of his enhanced speed. And once he had made it inside, she was nowhere in sight.

A controlled breath. He couldn't lose his head in front of this many people, he wouldn't do that to Tony...part of why he had isolated himself before. He felt a bit childish thinking like that the minute he saw Bruce.

The outside air had a calming effect as he walked back out to locate Clint. It was easier than he had anticipated; the man was waiting for him. "You alright, Cap?"

"I think I'm losing it, Clint," he breathed, tugging a hand through his hair.

Clint raised an eyebrow, tipping his head forward a bit. "Losing it like how?"

"I..." He wasn't sure of his decision to bring it up. "I keep seeing..."

"Hey, guys, let me introduce you to my personal friend Steve!" came a familiar voice, accompanied by an arm audaciously placed around his waist.

"Excuse me!" Steve said, incredulous. "Wait...you're--"

Madison was already naming off a bunch of other under-aged friends, all gazing in adoration. He rolled his eyes. "Mad--Madeline, right? No, Madison!" She looked up as he stepped out of her arm. "Look, it's very nice to meet all of you, but--"

Another song began, which Steve wouldn't have noticed but for Madison's high-pitched squeal. She bounced around to face Steve, taking him by the hands. "Oh my god I love this song! Will you dance with me? Oh my god it would mean the world to me to dance with Cap--"

"I don't dance," he said curtly, taking his hands back and turning to talk to Clint--who had vanished.

"Aw, why not? I think you'd be a great dancer!"

"Maybe," he said, looking around for his deserter. His eyes settled on a better sight. "But not with you. I'm sorry, miss."

He motioned her to move aside, making a beeline for the brunette. "Peggy!" he shouted, gaining speed despite his efforts to keep calm. "Peggy!"

She went inside and this time he didn't take his eyes off her, occasionally stumbling into people but pressing on. "It's me!" he called. "Peggy, it's me!"

Through rooms and halls, turning every which way in the darkness, crossing through lighted rooms and people staring, he kept his pursuit of the woman, her brown hair and red dress, her slender figure, her--crash!

He froze, hands up as though in surrender as a man in front of him leaned down to pick up the broken bits of glass. "I am so sorry! Did I get you? Did--"

Panicked, Steve stepped impatiently around the mess on the floor. He was pretty sure he had seen her turn right so he headed that way. "Peggy!" She wasn't there. He turned around, heading the other way, nearly hyperventilating, tugging his hands through his hair and calling out her name and there she had been, the promise of a dance, the hope that all he once had was not lost and he was so close, so close to holding her again and "Where are you?" he cried hoarsely, answered by only a shallow echo.

Tony stepped out of a room, dress shoes clicking slowly on the floor toward Steve. "Well I'm right here," he said, voice calm, concerned eyes trained on Steve. "Where are you?"

Still, breathing through his mouth, Steve focused on relaxing, first the muscles in his face and then his fists, shoulders slumping, falling with his face, and he wilted with his eyes, looking at Tony with desperation.

"What are you looking for, Captain?" he asked casually.

"I..." He faltered.

"Earth to Captain?"

Steve stared right past the man. No, right through him, taking those brown eyes with his thoughts. "The right...the right partner..." His voice was quiet, distant. Separate. It broke in the middle, deflated as his posture.

Tony's confusion did nothing to mar his sympathy as he just stood, waiting for Steve's breathing to quiet down.

Steve's eyebrows finally relaxed, and he looked down at Tony's feet.

"Cap--Steve..."

"I just wanted one dance," he whispered, completely to himself.

Slowly, the other turned toward a door. "Come with me," he said, and Steve complied, dully, lifeless.

The lights came on in an empty room that looked like an outdated (by Stark's standard) entertainment center. "Stereo should still work...J.A.R.V.I.S. Now. And no snark, please."

The music began without hesitation nor a word from J.A.R.V.I.S. Steve stood looking at Tony, emotion growing from idly confused to somewhat startled when the smaller man stepped right up close to him, taking one of his wrists.

"What are--"

"Just shut up and enjoy the moment." He placed Steve's hand on his waist and his other hand on Steve's shoulder, grimacing a little; he hadn't ever had need to assume the woman's position.

Steve stiffened. "Tony..."

"Shh!" he hissed, giving Steve a stern look as he began to sway. A moment of silence but for the music. "You know, you should be the one leading."

It took Steve a moment, as his heart sped and his head went dizzy, but he led the dance, slow and simple.

Neither one talked for a good, long while, and Steve tried not to look at Tony. He got bored of only taking in the room, and closed his eyes..."I saw Peggy."

"Steve..." Tony said simply, "You didn't see Peggy."

Steve's eyes snapped open. "I saw her, Tony, I...her hair, her smile..."

"You know that's impossible."

"Her eyes..." Steve stopped. He hadn't seen the woman's eyes. Glancing down into Tony's, he pondered. "She had...the most amazing brown eyes. The way they sparkled, it was enchanting." Like yours. "The way they...smiled when she smiled. If that...makes sense..."

Tony dropped his eyes away from Steve's. "Look...I get that you miss her. But you didn't see her, Steve, you know that."

Steve focused on his steps, looking at anything but Tony, idly squeezing his hand.

A head on his shoulder startled him, but still he didn't look, instead closing his eyes again. For the moment.

He pictured her, clear as day, her pale skin and cherry red lips, her soft, dark hair, her steady breath and confident step and his--her brown eyes...

"She's gone, Steve."

A breath. "I know."

"This is your present now, Steve...this is the moment you're living in. I understand you loved her," Tony's voice mumbled softly against Steve's soldier, "but you can't hold on to something you can't get back."

A pause. "I know."

"Look at what you have now," Tony continued. "You've got me. Us. You have the team. But I'm the most important part, of course, screw the others."

Steve chucked.

"Except Banner. He's cool."

All the tension in Steve's body left with a sigh, and the music slowed, and they were more swaying than dancing at this point. "I wouldn't want to lose this. Us. The team, that is."

Screw the team.

"You." Steve half-wished he hadn't just added that. It felt weird on his lips, but at the same time..."If anyone took you away from me I'd kill them."

Tony scoffed. "Liked my father that much?"

The thought first pained, and then confused Steve. "I...wasn't even thinking about him. It's not about him, you're not Howard. I hold onto him with my shield..." He sighed. "I meant you. Specifically. You're...you're a good friend to me. That's what it is."

"Mhm." Tony's warmth left Steve's shoulder and Steve opened his eyes. "So, as much as I love slow dancing," Tony groaned sarcastically, "Know any moves?"

A light smile tugged at Steve's lips. "I'm afraid anything I have to offer is a little outdated."

"You're probably right. Plus, there are a lot of cameras out there that need to see my pretty face."

"You also have a few under-aged party crashers--"

"Try tons," Tony smirked, hand still in Steve's. "Who cares, I won't be the one to kick him out. It's a special night."

"You know, it kind of is."

Tony tried not to beam. "Glad to see you finally enjoying yourself."


	2. Chapter 2

At 4 AM the building was finally, relatively, quiet; at least the top few floors, and the other several were being cleared out by maybe-that-weird-new-intern-or-who-cared-because-it-wasn't-his-problem-right-now. The rest of the team had left, or were just making their way down, but again who cared, it wasn't Tony's problem, it was J.A.R.V.I.S.'s problem, and Tony wanted to fucking sleep.

He sighed in ecstasy as his worn body hit the mattress, almost instantly falling asleep behind the dark embrace of his eyelids and "Sorry to disturb you, Master Stark, but it appears you still have a stray guest."

Tony jolted. "Augh, you deal with it," he groaned, clutching a pillow over his head and digging frustrated fingers into it.

"Usually I would, but you might want to see this person off yourself."

Tony rolled over lazily and glared at the ceiling. Where did he get off telling Tony what he might or might not want to do when he wanted to sleep?

Arguing with an AI at this hour of the morning seemed pointless and stressful, so Tony got up and trudged through the 92nd story to- "Damn...J.A.R.V.I.S., were you gonna tell me where they were?"

"One of the older rooms, sir."

"Well that's very specific, thanks so much for all your h-" And suddenly Tony felt more awake as he headed right for the room in which the Captain had barricaded himself in earlier, swung around the doorframe and there he was. Lying on the couch, clutching a throw-pillow that Pepper had left behind, face lit only by the light bleeding in from outside the room.

He chuckled. The poor kid. He knew Steve didn't want to come, didn't want anything to do with some insane Hollywood-style party in some big ugly building in New York, but of course it was obligatory. It was expected of him, of them, at the expense of Steve's comfort, and so Steve had planned to get away with the bare minimum and lock himself in this ungodly out-dated room that should have been demolished during the battle. Should I wake him up? he thought, quickly deciding he didn't want to be responsible for ruining Steve's sleep. He didn't exactly look peaceful-arms rigidly clinging to the pillow, face set-but it would still be kinda rude to wake him, right? Instead, the kinder thing to do would be to pull that folded red blanked over Steve's body and tuck him in, demand a glass of water from J.A.R.V.I.S. to put at his bedside for the morning and maybe give that baby angel face a little kiss goodnigh-

Wow, I'm tired as fuck.

He did the blanket thing, and considered about the glass-of-water thing, and turned to leave the room when he heard a rustle of fabric and a shuddering breath. "Bucky! Bucky..."

"Fantastic," Tony muttered, concern seeping in through his annoyed tone.

"Nn...Stark!"

Tony clenched his teeth, still turned away from the other. "He needs to give it up..."

"Stark...Tony! Tony Stark..."

He turned at the mention of his name, eyes wide in the dark and stood by the sofa and the Captain writhing on top of it.

"No, no! Aughh!" A sob.

"Captain!" Tony clamped a hand on Steve's shoulder, shaking him. "Captain, I'm right here." Murmurs tore through Steve's lips and clenched teeth with violence to match his tremors. "Captain, come on. Wake up. Steve."

Steve's body collided with Tony's. Arms clamped around him and stubby nails pressed into his back and Tony couldn't move but for being rocked by his and Steve's rapid breathing. He felt dampness from Steve's arms, and from his eyes nested in Tony's neck, and he felt Steve's whole body tremble as he gasped for air as though he had been drowning.

Breathing didn't come too easily under the supersoldier's crushing grip, but Tony managed and whispered, "Steve?"

Steve's chest stopped mid-swell, and he exhaled heavily, nearly going limp against Tony before his arms slinked off and he sat back, eyes tired and bloodshot and confused and his shoulders drooping. "You're...I..."

"It was a bad dream," Tony explained simply, resting a comforting hand on the sweat-dampened sleeve of his shirt. "You're at Stark Tower. It's four in the Thor-damn morning, and you're safe. N'kay?"

Steve blinked, chest heaving once, twice in attempt to cleanse the tightness in his chest. His eyes fluttered closed, and he lied back down on the sofa. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just fall asleep like that...I can get going in a minute..."

"That's an incredibly ridiculous idea," Tony said. "Didn't you hear what time it was? No, get up off your ass."

Eyebrows wrinkling, Steve cracked open a curious eye at Tony.

"Come on, up off your ass," Tony repeated, holding out a hand for Steve to grab. "Let's get you in an actual bed."

The closest one was Tony's own. So he led the lead-footed soldier to his bed. Steve had just taken off his shoes when Tony returned with a glass of water. "Thank you..."

"Yeah, nothing," Tony dismissed, turning. "If you need me I'll b-" A whimper cut his sentence short. He turned back around to look at Steve, who was now enthralled with his glass of water, and sighed. "How...intense...?"

"Most realistic dream I've ever endured," Steve rasped, eyes downcast. "I...I really thought you were dead. I saw...it was so vivid..." He cringed.

"You don't have to retell it," Tony insisted. Silence, for a moment, as Tony tried to construct the right words to make it not sound like he was talking to a child. "Well...uh...You know, I'm kind of a diva. I can't sleep when I'm not in my own bed, so, no homo but it looks like we're gonna share. Good?"

Steve nodded, trying to look nonchalant, but Tony could almost see the stress leave Cap's body as he crawled in to the other side of the vast bed.

Both settled and soon the room was dark, and Steve apologized before murmuring across the mattress, "I'm just...so happy to see you alive. I could kiss you."

"Well then why don't you?" The words slipped through Tony's half-conscious lips before he had thought it through. Yet he didn't correct himself. There was a pause, and then a rustle, and he felt a warm hand caress his right cheek and a pair of chapped lips kiss his left.

Before Steve could pull away Tony felt for his face and held it there, blinking up in the dark. Once he could see the dark outline of Steve's lips, he pressed his to them, placing his other hand on Steve's at his cheek.

They separated with a shuddering breath on Steve's part, and there was a soft ffp as he fell back to his spot without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

Coldness was the first sensation that overtook Steve's body when he awoke, his eyelids losing the battle to stay open as he reached across the bed to grab for something to pull around himself. His tongue stuck to the dry roof of his mouth and he puckered a little at the feeling.

His hand settled on something warm and...fleshen. His eyes fluttered open despite their dryness, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. Which mean that what he was holding onto...

Tony lay sprawled on his back, legs spread, with one arm clutching a majority of the bedsheets in a bunch up to his neck. Left arm outstretched toward Steve, Tony was just blinking awake. His brown eyes glanced up to where Steve's hand clutched his forearm and then to Steve's face.

They both blinked, and Steve drew his hand away, curling in on himself just a little. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was cold."

"Mm?" Tony groaned sleepily, chest rising and falling under the bedsheets as he stretched his arms over his head. It took a moment but the comment registered. "Oh! Damn, m'sorry, here..." He chucked the covers at Steve, who tucked them around himself and snuggled in them.

Tony rolled over with his back to Steve, clutching his arms around himself, body falling limp into the mattress with a sigh. Steve blinked at the full window beyond him. Small pink light trickling over the city's silhouette was the only evidence of daylight. "Time'zit?" he breathed.

Stirring with a tired moan, Tony glanced over his shoulder at the supersoldier. "Sisfi'teen," he slurred. "Lemme sleep."

"Mm, sorry." With an unintelligible muffled reply from Tony, Steve closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp silence of dawn-silent except for the sound of the couple of car horns that could actually make it all the way up here from the street. His head felt shimmery and light, fingers twisting in the sheets, but when he opened his eyes Tony had changed his position, now hugging his pillow for warmth.

After watching Tony fidget for a good minute, Steve rolled to his front and side-winded to the middle of the bed, tucking up a corner of the bedsheets in his fist and throwing it over Tony. Tony's body twitched and he turned his head, cheek smushed against the pillow, to face Steve. One of his brows quirked up on his forehead.

But the confusion vanished from his face quickly enough, and his eyes closed, and he accepted the bedsheets with clutching fingers and curled toward Steve, breathing softly. His forehead nearly touched Steve's shoulder, the crown of his head level to Steve's face and his hair was so mussed that the only thing keeping Steve from combing it out with his fingers was the thought of losing the heat of the blanket around his arms.

Each of Tony's breaths on Steve's shoulder slowly tensed up Steve's body, and he tried not to move and thus disturb the dozing man. He let his eyes close, though he could not return to sleep for his care not to wake Tony.

That's when he felt warm, bare skin against his chest, and opened his eyes to see Tony had rolled nearly onto him, snuggling with his back to Steve's front and a mess of sheets bunched in front of the arc reactor. Steve didn't mind much; anything was better than being cold. At the contact, something in Steve realized it was very foolish to cease all movement for fear of waking the other and allowed his knees to bend, even as they hit the back of Tony's. Right arm trapped under his own pillow and the other between their bodies, Steve realized how cramped his muscles had truly become, and let his left arm fall along his side. It couldn't stay there long without strict control over Steve's own muscles, so tentatively, he let it fall against Tony's back, and then just gave up and draped it over Tony.

A warm set of fingers grabbed at his hand, entwining in his.

Before he even had the chance to tense up, Tony backed up into him, head tucking under Steve's chin as he greedily snuggled Steve's arm to his unshaven face. The pressure of Tony's body against Steve's chest made him relax, and reach up from under the pillow to give in to straightening Tony's hair. He felt, more than heard, Tony's low chuckle.

As Steve drifted back to almost-sleep, he felt Tony continue to play idly with his fingers. His head began to nod, sliding from the gentle slope of the pillow, and Tony's thick hair tickled his nose.

He found himself annoyed with any cool air that dared impede his comfort, working the sheets to adjust, to block out any of the world around this little bundle of bed and human heat. Steve had had his fill of cold. And his fill of alone, as well, he realized as Tony squeezed his hand lightly.

Clenching his teeth, and touching his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Steve grimaced at the taste and realized again how very thirsty he was, and remembered the half-full glass of water on the end table. Immediately conflicted with the prospect of leaving this warmth but for a second, Steve weighed whether it was worth it to quench his dry throat. He wanted the water. But he wanted the warmth. But he really wanted the water.

Tony mumbled something.

"Hm?"

"I said, 'you're tense,'" Tony spoke against Steve's hand. "Why are you tense? Don't be tense. It's not comfy."

"I-" Tony kissed Steve's hand and the rest of his reply was lost in a flustered huff.

"Well what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just thirsty."

Steve sighed as the heat between his fingers was replaced by an uncomfortable coolness as Tony let go. "Then get your water."

"But I don't want to move," Steve whined, tipping his head closer to Tony's and begging the headboard with his blue eyes. "You're warm."

Tony tugged on Steve's arm again, trapping it to his chest. "Well good, 'cause I don't want you to move, either. For similar reasons."

And suddenly a warmth in Steve's chest grew suffocating.

"Your heart's beating super fast," Tony remarked. Steve said nothing. "I'm gonna go out on a limb...and ask...is it something to do with the dream?"

"I...yes, and no," he replied, pressing his face into Tony's hair. "It's...I already said I don't want to lose you. It would...be too much like losing those I've already lost."

He felt Tony nod.

"Not like I count you as Peggy. Or Howard," he added. "It's...you do remind me of them, a lot. I just feel like I am closer to you than I was to them."

"I get that," Tony encouraged.

"And you're so warm," he mumbled reverently. "I'm sorry. I'm getting all sentimental on you."

A chuckle in reply. "Maybe you're just dehydrated."

Much against both of their wishes, Tony sat up. He stretched over Steve's body and reached for the glass on the end table, and brought it back, and Steve sat up with his back against the cool headboard and downed the contents. It wasn't nearly enough to quench his thirst; in fact, he felt thirstier after drinking it than he had when he woke up. He reached over to replace the glass, and slid back down, settling his head into a pillow. Portions of his body lied in warmth, while others were shocked by the coolth of untouched sheets. He blinked up into the brown eyes of the man lying on his side, propped up on an elbow. Tony just looked down at him, looked over his bare chest and down at the jeans he had failed to remove earlier, and then he gripped the bedsheets and drew them up over Steve and himself, snuggling up to Steve's side.

"Tony..."

"Don't be confused. Don't say anything." His command was punctuated by a sudden cling to Steve, who felt the arc reactor press into his side. He hesitated, but looped his right arm around Tony, snuggling him closer.

Readjusting to new warmth, Steve closed his eyes, only to open them again the moment Tony's warm lips kissed his dreadfully chapped ones.

He didn't let himself think, just kissed back, tucking his fingers into Tony's hair and gripping his shoulder gently. In a fluid movement, Tony's weight rested atop Steve, and Steve wrapped his arms around him, kissing his lips lightly. Tony ruffled the sheets around them, trying to keep them contained, and every kiss he pressed to Steve's lips was urgent, every kiss to his cheek and the base of his jaw understanding, comforting, and he squeezed Steve and nuzzled his chest, listening to the hastened pounding inside.

Don't think, Steve told himself, for he did not want to lose this heat. He did not want to lose feeling this loved.

So he wasn't the one to break the silence; Tony was. "I've never been held like this before. And I never pictured it."

Pause. "Why do you sound like that's a bad thing?"

"Oh, it's not. I...I think I love it," Tony confessed. It was odd, but Steve could feel the man's cheek heat up against his bare chest. "I mean, you're a fucking comfy mattress."

Steve chuckled, a tad nervously. "I've...never been held like this, either. Never got the chance..."

"Well, we're sharing firsts. Yay!" Tony cheered wearily, half-heartedly raising a fist in victory before adjusting himself on Steve's body. "This is so weird. But it's good weird. So don't get all self-conscious on me."

Steve nodded, and chuckled. And he rested a hand on Tony's back, and Tony's hand found Steve's other, fingers locking in his again, and they fell asleep as the sun rose.


End file.
